


Cognitive Dissonance

by LyricalSniperRifle



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Arguing, Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/M, First Times, Friends With Benefits, Grinding, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Making Out, Messy Feelings, Or Is It?, Oral Sex, Pining, Romantic Tension, Secret Sex, Unrequited Love, banter galore, handjobs, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25367545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricalSniperRifle/pseuds/LyricalSniperRifle
Summary: “We knew sex in the sweetest moments and in the harshest moments too. We pressed our bodies together. We peeled them apart. We exchanged our skins. We talked a little then fell silent.”- Nizar QabbaniThe nights have been colder lately. That means Yona has been getting cuddlier in her sleep, to Yoon's chagrin. After all, being alone with a girl in a tent with her unknowingly pressing her body to his doesn't help when all he wants is to go to bed.For better or worse, she's willing to relieve his frustration...and then some.Yoon may or may not be equipped to handle the new host of feelings this development in their relationship brings.
Relationships: Jae-Ha & Yoon | Yun (Akatsuki no Yona), Son Hak & Yoon | Yun, Son Hak/Yona (mentioned), Yona/Yoon | Yun (Akatsuki no Yona)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 77





	1. Restless

Nights in the wild stretches of land in Kouka Kingdom have gone colder as of late. The daytime sees mild weather, ideal for traveling across the country like their motley crew was known for doing, but it doesn't predict the biting chill of the dark hours. In the absence of the sun, the whipping air crashes freshly against any area of exposed skin, finding every gap in their cotton and wool defenses no matter how slight. Evidently, seven bodies taking temporary shelter underneath the forest foliage still isn't enough to combat it entirely; the heat of movement, hunting, training, and anything emanating from their hot stew dinner is fleeting.

The cold hasn't gone without acknowledgment, either, but the one suffering the most is also the least vocal about it. Shin-Ah gradually shrinks in on himself the later it gets, becoming even quieter as he is decidedly miserable during the night. Tugging both sides of his fur headpiece around his body, it's almost impressive how small a grown man can squeeze himself, transforming into a quivering, white-furred creature with a horned skull for a face. He speaks up only to insist that he's fine when Yona thoughtfully offers him her place in the tent to sleep in.

Yoon can't say that he envies the dragons—and Hak, but he considered the former general to be in the same league as them anyway (indeed, the "Darkness Dragon" nickname wasn't entirely unfitting). Right now, he was perfectly okay with having an extra buffer against the elements. Not that he objected to this arrangement in the first place. It'd been decided from the onset that he was to sleep with the princess, because they're smaller and weaker than the others, so it's only natural.

It's just as well. What Yoon lacks in constitution compared to these monstrous men, he makes up for with his wits, resourcefulness, and delicate, pretty-boy features. And sleeping outside probably wouldn't do good for his complexion.

All this to say that he's been sleeping in a compact tent with Yona for many months now. Even if they were wrapped up in two separate blankets with adequate wiggle room, the thought of sleeping alone with a girl was embarrassing to him at first. But there was no avoiding it, so no use making a fuss. He put up with it, and over time, he started to realize some of the tiniest details about his tentmate.

Like the fact that Yona, no matter how tired she is at the end of the day, never fails to remove her earrings before falling asleep. Golden tassels adorned with jade green beads, clearly royal keepsakes by their rich colors, are treated with care. They are tucked underneath her pillow at the spot her head gently rests upon. In the morning, they're the first things she puts back on.

Or how Yona talks in her sleep. Yoon, a light sleeper, is easily pulled out of darkness to a foggy wakefulness at her louder mumbles. It tends to happen when she has nightmares. Names or fragments of pleas escape her subconscious imaginings, wrought with a sort of raw quiet reserved only for the dead of night. They whisper that she's reliving a glass paradise that cracks apart in her hands, a world-shattering trauma that he can only imagine. He tries to wake her up whenever this happens.

Or how Yona sometimes moves around in her sleep. Her fingers will brush against his shoulder, or her arm will nudge up to his back, and things like that are pretty inoffensive. But the morning he'd found her huddled close to him, her forehead touching his chest as she slumbered so peacefully, he couldn't go without saying anything about it. _"But it was really cold this morning!_ " she'd complained to him later. _"I would have caught a cold like that..."_ He'd just sighed and watched as the Thunder Beast flirted with her over an arm-wrestling match.

Yoon thought he had gotten used to this by now. Still, even his generous tolerance for these people had a limit. It's definitely because of the weather that she's started huddling up to him more, and that "sometimes" is quickly turning into "almost every night." Because when Yona is cold, she gets horribly, mortifyingly cuddly.

And it's driving him up the wall.

He's not sure how long he's been awake, but it had to be some time after midnight when he'd sensed Yona's arm falling over him in a loose hug. Who knows how she'd wriggled under both of their blankets to reach him; maybe he just needed to fend her off by turning himself into a blanket roll. The corner of his mouth quirks wryly at the thought.

Eyes shut, he exhales through his nose when he feels a gentle squeeze around his middle. There's a pressure at his back that is too warm and yielding and distinctly shaped to be anything but the body sleeping beside him. Yona buries her face between his shoulder blades and makes a small, content hum. The blanket roll is sounding more appealing by the minute.

It doesn't help that the older he gets, the more _conscious_ he is over these matters. At the beginning of their journey, he might have brushed it off as an uncomfortable annoyance, but after being around people who weren't Ik-Soo for so long—well, obviously, he's changed a lot since he left to search for the four dragons of legend. And the freedom that came with joining a traveling party made room in his genius mind for things besides living a simple life with the one person he cared about.

Like various interests that may or may not have to do with things that are soft and yielding and distinctly shaped.

Her thigh fits into the dip where his legs meet.

_Nope, there's no way in hell this can continue._

The truth is that he's very aware of how hard she worked every day. Even if this is terribly awkward for him, he can't help feeling guilty over interrupting her rest, so he runs over the justifications in his head:

1\. This has been happening for days

2\. But she's literally holding him now

3\. They're not dating

4\. He can't sleep like this

5\. If anyone saw them, he'd evaporate

Satisfied, Yoon nods to himself.

"Yona, wake up," he says, swatting at her arm. He can feel how the fabric of his shirt muffles her quiet moan. "Hey."

Her hand twitches at his abdomen.

"Yoon..." she mutters, voice clearing up, yet heavy with sleep as she pulls her chin back. "Wh—what's wrong...?"

"You're too close. Can you move over?"

Silence hangs in the air as Yona presumably processes the position they're in. He's thinking about repeating himself when she remains motionless, her face still at his back and arm wrapped around him. She must be delirious with dreams or something because there is no way she's serious when she finally responds:

"But it's freezing..."

"Yona." When he repeats her name, this time it's twinged in annoyance. A warning tone that is capable of commanding the attention of everyone in their group, one of few perks belonging to the one and only mother hen.

Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to work on groggy princesses. "...'nd I'm too comfortable."

"This is embarrassing," he hisses, a warm flush crawling up his neck. "I can just give you my cloak if you're cold."

"Not the same. Just for tonight... Pleeaase?" she half-yawns.

"I said—"

If he were anyone else, would she be so carefree?

"—ugh." Yoon huffs and takes her wrist to pull her arm off of him. Yona whines in protest as he scoots away, pulling his blanket tighter to his chest. It's like ice numbing one side of his body when he moves from their spot of combined body heat closer to the edge of the tarp.

Which is a good thing.

"Wait," she tries.

"Goodnight."

"I'm sorry, Yoon." Her words are light with laughter. "I didn't think you were so pure."

"Th-That's not why I'm..." He shakes his head. "No, actually, you're right. That's me. Just a pure-hearted maiden." It comes out snippier than he intended, but it's because he just wants to end the conversation, sleep, and forget this happened.

"Are you mad at me?"

"I'm not, it's just," he says before a rough sigh surges from his throat. His fingers flex, then ball into a tight fist. "...I'm a boy, you know."

"Um." The question on her tongue goes unspoken but expects an answer. "Yes. That's true."

"So keep your distance. You need to be more careful."

"I trust that you won't do anything to me."

"That's not what I meant," he replies through his teeth. "It's not for _you_. When you do things like...pressing up to me, I get..."

"...You get...?"

_Oh my god._

He's sure that her touch on his shoulder was meant to be comforting, but it's killing him how awful she is at taking a hint. Flinching further away, he curls into himself and shifts his legs uneasily, the tips of his ears dyed a bright red. How can one person be this painfully oblivious?

"Yoon?"

"...................Are you really going to make me say it."

The amount of effort she's putting into comprehending is so obvious that he wouldn't be surprised if it could be felt outside of the tent. The moment it clicks for her, she gives an undignified squeal. "Eh!? You don't really mean _that,_ right!?" The blankets ruffle frantically behind him.

"Shh, keep it down."

"But, but, how would that—"

"You move around a lot in your sleep, okay?" he mumbles defensively. "Makes it hard to—" _Wording._ "—to relax."

"I, uh, I'm really, really sorry," she stammers out. "I d-didn't mean to make you..."

"Forget about it. I'm a beautiful young man with healthy hormones. It can't be helped." Now that it's out there, truthfully, Yoon isn't feeling quite as humiliated as he thought he would. Part of it is probably because they aren't facing each other, but since they've gotten this straightened out, they can move past this without issue. It's a relief, in a way. Even if it is horribly embarrassing for them both, Yona understood, didn't she?

There is a long pause.

When she speaks again, her voice is calmer. "You said that I move around a lot. You make it sound like..." She clears her throat. "Is _this_...a regular occurrence?"

Never mind, he's not relieved.

"What kind of question is that!?" His face is turning the color of her hair.

"Quiet, you're too loud."

"Just, why would you want to know that?" he asks wearily. "Weirdo. Pervert."

"If it's often, and I've made it hard for you to fall asleep, then I'd feel bad." Another shuffling noise. "I...can't really help what I do in my sleep, but..."

 _But?_ He frowns quizzically.

"...Yoon, turn around."

His body stiffens all over. "What?"

In that instant he's left himself open. While she hasn't said it outright, her implication accosts him and brings everything to a screeching, jerking halt. She hasn't even done anything yet, remaining on her side of the tent and gently _beckoning_ him with just three words. Wracked with nerves, his blood pounds through himself.

"I understand that you have your needs. You are a boy, after all." Her voice is too sweet and considerate for her sentences, like clothes that don't fit their wearer. "I'm sorry I didn't realize before."

Yoon stays silent.

"I don't mind. Really. As a woman, I should be able to do this much, right?"

He turns around, slowly, as if his joints were made of stone. Trying to focus past the veil of darkness, he blinks twice, and her outline sharpens. "You don't need to treat this like it's your responsibility. It's not... Th-This is just too much." He swallows thickly. "I mean, why aren't you more bothered? You're so _weird,_ Yona."

The princess of Kouka inches closer, and he sees how her cheeks are flushed with color. A face so delicate and demure, different from the person he saw every day. It makes his stomach twist knowing he was partly the cause for it—and he finds that it's not really in a bad way. Despite her embarrassment, however, there's intensity shining in her eyes.

The kind that their relationship doesn't deserve.

"I want to take care of you." Those muted violets lend strength to her words. They almost make him forget what exactly she was proposing they do. Still, he doesn't stop her when her arm slithers beneath her own blanket, and then his, before rising up. Her palm is cold against his heated face. "If you're alright with it, that is."

Closer, closer.

"I'll do what I can to help you relax." With a smile that tugs warmly at her lips, she touches their foreheads. "Okay?"

Heart thumping between his ears, it almost overpowers his answer:

"Okay."

It's barely a word, as though he was afraid that if he said it too loud, that hot mess of emotion churning up his insides would come leaking out with it. He doesn't know where to look when Yona pulls her hand away, disappearing underneath folds and layers of cloth. So he picks an empty spot on the wall past the rise of her shoulder as she settles in close and reaches for the slight tent he's been pitching this whole time.

Her hand presses flat at his stomach, gradually smoothing out the green fabric of his tunic as she travels down. Her fingers find the bulge in his pants, and she cups it gingerly. Yoon bites the inside of his cheek as her grasp envelops him, curiously feeling the outline of his half-hard cock. Through two layers of clothes, he can still tell how different the touch is from his own. Her hand is smaller than his as well as far more gentle, though the latter was likely due to inexperience more than anything else. Not that he could say he was better on that front.

"You seem tense."

"I can't imagine why," he remarks, and Yona giggles. He smiles a little despite himself. "Sorry. I'll try to calm down."

"I'm nervous, too. But it's okay. We can take it as slow as you want."

"If it gets to be too much, you don't need to force yourself—"

"I'll be fine, Yoon. I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't sure I wanted to."

This girl is always reassuring him. Despite her nervousness, everything in her voice and the smile he can see out of his peripheral vision suggests she's intent on following through on this—whatever this is. A favor? Putting it that way makes it all feel strangely dirty _(As if it isn't!),_ so he shuts out that train of thought.

Either way, they can't turn back. She's already lifting the front flap of his tunic, and Yoon clenches his eyes tight when her fingers find the waistband of his pants. _Calm down._ In an attempt to slow his heart rate, breath parts his lips in one slow exhalation, in tandem with Yona dipping under his pants. He speeds up the process by helping her tug down, and soon, his bare skin frosts over with the night air from the folded bottom of his tunic to about mid-thigh.

Briefly, he dares to crack an eye open. Yona's gaze is aimed lower, her chin pointing to her chest, but the blanket and the darkness work as a double barrier in preventing them from seeing anything. It gives him some comfort knowing that he doesn't have to be wary of exploring eyes. He's not sure if he has it in him to worry over Yona liking what she sees. Which is not a thought that he expected to ever have, but here they are.

"I'm going to touch you now. Please guide me so I can help you feel good."

He hums his assent.

Even though he was expecting it, her hand is cold enough that he can't fight back a light shudder at the contact. She murmurs an apology while gently gripping him around the base, testing his weight and size. But she doesn't idle for very long, for fear of not producing enough heat to keep him aroused. She begins to pump him lightly from bottom to top, top to bottom in careful motions. Her skin is littered with callouses and healed injuries, but it's not unpleasant (the feel of her hand doesn't matter so much as it being hers in the first place). He sucks in an icy breath, going rigid with the combined cold and sensation of being stroked.

Nothing is said for a while. Yoon wants to give them both, mostly her, time to acclimate. If he wasn't certain that she hasn't fooled around before, he is now. She's touching him like he might break, unsure of the right pressure and pace, but it's clear she would rather err on the safe side. 

At some point, he remembers what she told him. "You can, ah, do it tighter," he utters shyly. "...and the...the tip. It's sensitive, so..."

As her thumb prods then swirls around his tip, he makes a small noise of approval. She keeps teasing his glans to coax out precum every so often while continuing to slide along his length. Her pace isn't anywhere near fast, but it's steady, and he starts firming up in her grasp along with her curious, even movements. The natural heat of his dick steadily rubs off on her hand, aided by the friction. Similarly, there's a mounting heat in his core communicated by his now audible breathing. It's subtle, but she's sure to hear, being this close in the otherwise silent tent.

The first involuntary moan she draws from him is low and rumbling. It hardly qualifies as anything beyond a hum, but he's embarrassed by it anyway. Falling into the slope of her neck, he hides his face in her shoulder, unable to stop himself from shallowly pushing into her hand with the shift in position.

"Does it feel good?" Yona questions softly.

"Y-Yeah." His erection twitches eagerly in agreement. "You're doing great. Keep going."

Her free hand alights the back of his head. He feels her pinch an apricot lock between her thumb and index, gently playing with his hair as she continues to play with him down there. At that point he hopes she isn't paying attention to his clamoring heart or the warmth radiating off his face, because her affection is making him melt into something that feels sweet and decadent. Like honey, so overtly saccharine that it does strange things to his head.

_You're so..._

He doesn't dignify the thought with an ending. His internal monologue is quickly being drowned out, anyway, as her mounting confidence comes out in faster, bolder strokes. Her jerking motions are slicking up his cock with clear fluid, and it's feeling better and better. Slumping into her, his neck cranes to press his nose to the crook of her neck, and he gasps hotly against her skin. Her scent is something heady and complicated, faintly of smoke and grass and dried sweat among other things that smell distinctly of "outside."

Yona is so perceptive of his physical cues that she makes it difficult for him to hold back his voice. And he really is trying: if they wake anyone up, it would be trouble. He doesn't want to think about what might happen if someone barged in on them and got the wrong idea...

If someone like Hak saw them and assumed the worst all because of a _favor,_ surely, his soul would depart from his body.

So he keeps the noise to a minimum, muffling them against her whenever he can. But they still coat his words, which need to be coherent so she can follow his instructions. When he tells her _"harder"_ and _"more"_ he sounds awfully pathetic, but he tries not to feel embarrassed. Especially when he ends up fully hard and twitching in her palm, unable to help pushing his hips into her strokes clumsily.

"I'm close," he warns her in a half-strangled tone. "R-Really close."

"Good. Don't hold back," she murmurs, petting his head while her other hand continues its ministrations unaffected. There is something so unbelievably sultry about it when she tells him, "Come whenever you want."

He throbs in her hand deliciously.

 _"Yona,"_ he groans, bucking up again, again, more, harder, until—

It's not like he can keep track at that point, but he's almost certain that it's her firm tug that finally pushes him over the edge. Blank euphoria floods his senses. He plants his face in the fabric of her red vest before that happens, saving him from moaning loud into the night air. He is spilling out into her hand, dripping onto the tarp below them, and he rides it out for those wonderful few seconds. When it's over, a wave of drowsiness weighs on his bones, causing him to relax into Yona as the climactic high fades into fuzzy afterglow.

Still, he can't let himself bask in it. "Hold on." Reluctantly, he extricates himself from her, scooting over to reach a leather pouch sitting nearby. Two squares of cloth are taken out, and when he turns back around Yona is staring at her own hand. Flushing, he presses one of the handkerchiefs to her hand with his own. She smiles at him kindly.

"Oh, thanks."

When both of them have finished wiping up, Yoon wads the cloth into a ball and tosses it to the side. He'll wash them off in the morning. He falls onto his back, huffing, and closes his eyes.

"Was that good?" she asks timidly.

"Yeah. It was," he responds in a voice that sounds rusted over.

"...You made a lot of cute noises."

"Sh-Shut up!" he wheezes. He lays a wrist over his eyes and wallows in his own fluster as she giggles softly.

To his mild surprise, Yona doesn't attempt to return to their original position, as if she's forgotten the reason things escalated in the first place. Fair enough, since the cold is the last thing on his mind in the aftermath of everything. They say their goodnights, and Yona drifts off almost immediately. Her slowed breathing fills his ears to accompany his buzzing thoughts.

Exhaustion wrestles with his brain, and in the end, wins out soon after.

He could deal with the implications of what they've done another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I got the idea for this fic from the fact that Yoon and Yona canonically sleep together aaaaaaand now I suddenly have a new rarepair lmao. They're super cute so I took a break from writing JSHK for them!
> 
> This was originally going to be a oneshot, but I felt like it would be better to split into two chapters because of the length. I headcanon both characters as verses so Yona's definitely going to get the favor returned in the next part ✌️
> 
> I lost steam a little near the end, but I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Little Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He would never intentionally seek out additional favors. If her chastising was to encourage him to_ relax _more, he wouldn't take advantage of her to do it, and firmly decided he wouldn't make a habit of waking her up no matter what his hormones had to say about it. Yoon is fine leaving it behind as a one-time thing that collects dust in their memories._
> 
> _Except it isn't a one-time thing._

Yoon knows that he is a good actor. It's a point of pride for him, being able to perform as needed to get what he wanted: choosing the right mannerisms in the right situation with the right execution is practically an art form. Deception is not his preferred tactic, but if all it took to avoid trouble was a few sweet words and faked laughter, he would take that route. If he had to disguise himself as a beautiful woman, he would flaunt his feminine charms. If he had a choice between his honor or his friends' safety, then he would gladly plaster on a smile and lie through his teeth about ideals.

Because dignity is a privilege. That is lesson zero of growing up hungry, squalid, and poor in the most deeply barren parts of the Fire Tribe. Dignity is by no means a necessity for a true survivor; blessed in looks and with little regard to disposable things, Yoon is the easy victor in battles of artifice. In short, acting is simple work for the handsome genius.

So he feels like kicking himself when he struggles to look Yona in the eye the morning after.

Granted, this wasn't an issue of life or death or anything close to it, but he also can't call this _not dangerous._ He's lucky that everyone is so distracted with their own rowdiness even in the early morning. As usual, breakfast is a comedy act. Today, a tiny insect has unceremoniously leaped into Kija's soup, at which point he had declared the food inedible (everyone is mildly impressed that he hadn't instantly dropped it in horror). Without hesitation, Shin-Ah plucks the insect from the soup and feeds it to Ao, and that sparks a heated-but-mostly-silly debate within the group about whether it was still good or forever tainted.

Naturally, Yoon informs Kija that he won't be eating anything else if he refuses that serving, as rations are limited and no way is he wasting time cooking more for something as dumb as this. Thus, the noble white dragon admits defeat.

It's not as if he's not talking to Yona either, although they haven't exchanged more than a few words so far today. Since he's interacting normally with everyone, the other guys don't seem to notice something as inconsequential as his eyes.

She does, though.

Later, they're trudging along a steep dirt path, and the two least physically adept bring up the rear. With enough cushion distance between them and the others, Yoon is the first to bring it up after a period of quiet.

"Are we going to talk about it?" he says without prompting.

The red-haired girl stares at him, expression sobering. She doesn't need any explanation to know what's been on his mind. "About last night...I..." Ashamed, she dips her head. "I must have crossed a line."

"Huh?"

"I never wanted to pressure you into anything. I'm truly sorry."

He blinks, then furrows his brows. "Why are you apologizing? I haven't said anything yet."

"I thought—" Her eyes round out in surprise. "Are you not upset with me?"

"No?"

"But you haven't looked at me all morning."

His cheeks glow pink. "That doesn't mean I'm upset... I just feel awkward. After last night." That's all he concedes—because he's not certain how she would take it if he told her he couldn't stop remembering her crooning voice, or the feeling of her hand wrapped around him every time she enters his field of vision. The pleasure she ignited in him tugs at his belly like a phantom sensation. Gaze dropping down, he readjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder. "It surprised me, you know, when you suggested it."

Actually, wasn't he reacting like a regular person would? Suddenly, Yona's demeanor comes off strange, thoughtfully apologetic yet not at all embarrassed about getting him off. To him, it didn't seem like she had been intimate with someone for the first time last night. Shouldn't she be more bashful? Is she just a better actor than him?

Or maybe it meant that little to her.

She breaks through his musings with a question that comes completely out of left field:

"Do you know how Hak has fun with the women in town?"

_Sorry, what?_

The look on his face must be as incredulous as he's feeling, as Yona elaborates. "He can't be serious about them, not while he's traveling with us. Still, I know that's a form of stress relief, too." Even with the overwhelming amount of pity Yoon has for Hak's position, he doesn't feel like correcting her misconception. She takes on the authoritative tone of an older sister when she states, "It's not good to be so wound up, Yoon. It's normal to feel embarrassed, but if you have urges, you shouldn't let them go unattended."

Sputtering, his jaw hangs open. "I—wait—wha—"

"And you enjoyed yourself, right?"

"I did, I did," he replies maybe too quickly, raising his hands in defense. One of them reaches for the nape of his neck, rubbing it insecurely. "It felt...nice. And it solved the problem, didn't it."

She sighs in relief. "Good! That makes me happy."

"Right, so don't go jumping to conclusions, idiot."

"Ahaha..."

While Yoon is deliberating awkwardly thanking her, Zeno starts to fall back, turning in their direction. Standing between the slowpokes and the rest of the Happy Hungry Bunch, the dragon cups his hands around his mouth and tells them to hurry it up with his usual wide grin. Since they can't go acting suspect, Yoon moves on ahead, and Yona follows close behind.

So that's all they discuss on that matter, and it's by choice. He would never intentionally seek out additional favors. If her chastising was to encourage him to _relax_ more, he wouldn't take advantage of her to do it, and firmly decided he wouldn't make a habit of waking her up no matter what his hormones had to say about it. Yoon is fine leaving it behind as a one-time thing that collects dust in their memories.

Except it isn't a one-time thing.

The second time, it comes about the opposite way. Yoon is woken up by her in the middle of the night to his face buried in her chest. To his utter mortification, a red-faced Yona explains that for once he'd reciprocated her cuddlesome habits in his slumber. And at that proximity, it is impossible for her to miss the effect that had on his unconscious body. Of course she couldn't ignore it.

The third time, neither of them are able to fall asleep in the first place. Life-threatening danger is a good deterrent for sleep no matter how often it happens; though they'd succeeded on another escapade, their minds are restless. His guilt refuses to let her go unsatisfied any longer. Yona could say what she wanted about him being wound up—she had a much larger burden on her shoulders. He gladly pushes past her insistence that "it's okay, you don't need to worry about me" to give her the care she deserves.

Like her, he's a quick study, with an attentive ear and nimble fingers that have Yona clenching around his hand, lips parted in a soundless moan when she finally achieves bliss.

It doesn't stop there.

But it isn't every night. Sometimes they're too exhausted to do so much as think of messing around, or they'll stay at an inn with Yona in a separate room, or Hak will sleep with her in the tent instead of him because of bears.

He doesn't ask if she felt this was really okay to keep doing in secret. He doesn't ask if being involved with someone like him was inappropriate for the princess of Kouka Kingdom. He doesn't ask if she would've been willing to do the same for the others. There isn't room for talk with hungry skin and busy hands to distract. Most of what they do is with their hands, but sometimes they'll grind against each other, fully clothed, in a tired haze until they doze off. Either way, it helps fight off the cold and tires them out on nights where sleep proves elusive.

Nothing comes of their nightly activities. Though the first few mornings bring an air of unspoken awkwardness, they keep at it until the only evidence of what they're doing is the extra bit of laundry he has to wash in the morning. During the day, they treat each other no differently from before, and their sessions are never planned in advance.

Nothing has to change, so they don't.

* * *

Since the chill is more bearable than nights previous, they've set the blankets to the side for tonight.

It's the first time she's allowed him to use his mouth on her. He is electric with excitement, hiking up her long skirt and pulling her undergarments down to expose her damp slit to the air. Anticipation pricks at his skin, but he knows her well down here. His fingers are able to find her pussy without issue. Thumbs push down on soft tissue before spreading her out as if he can see her and wanted to take her in, exposed as she was in the dark. As it stands, he can hardly see anything at this angle, though the small whimper the gesture provokes makes it worth doing.

Yoon leans in, warm breath washing over her in thick, even exhales. His thumbs are a guide in the dark as much as a trick to fluster her. He presses the flat of his tongue to her, trailing a long, slow lick up her lower lips. She gives a shuddering sigh, drawing her breath back in as he continues to drink in the feel and taste of her.

Yona has always been more reserved about telling him exactly where she wants him, but if he's being honest, that just makes it a fun challenge for him. He maps her out like wild territory. Listening to the ebb and flow of her breathing, sometimes subtle, sometimes erratic—her voice spilling from mere exhale to noise into the air as he works her into trembling pleasure. Every twitch and shift of her muscles form an impression in his mind. These thrilling little reactions fill his senses to the brim until there is nothing but Yona, in all her endless intricacies.

It isn't that different from usual, he reasons. It's using different equipment to achieve the same results. Not a problem for someone like him.

His hands settle on her bare hips, keeping her steady as his tongue caresses her folds. 

"Yoon..." Her thighs are tense around his head.

"Be careful," he mutters, parting from her heat. "I can't cover your mouth from here." She gives a hum of understanding. Multiple times, he's had to clamp a hand over her lips since Yona is more likely to forget to suppress her voice at the height of ecstasy. Though, he can't help the wicked satisfaction that came from hearing her choke down a squeak when he suddenly flicks his tongue against her clit.

Maybe she can feel his smirk, because she tells him, "You're so mean," her pout audible.

"Hn? Should I stop, then?" 

"N-No..." She furls her hands over his head, interweaving fingers through his hair. "I don't want you to stop. Please."

_Please._

His dick pulses.

Unable to deny her when she sounded like _that,_ he resumes his service. Trapped in her throat, a low moan thrums through as he leans further in to suck at her clit. As he's well aware of by now, stimulating her there is the most effective, and when he stops her hips cant impatiently. He knows it's too slow when his tongue drags lazily over the sensitive bit. Her toned legs squeeze him, pleading again, and in response he laps her up greedily. 

_"Mmmhh."_

With his face buried between her legs, he can't help imagining what kind of expression produced that sound. Teeth sinking into her plush bottom lip. Eyes clenched, brows scrunched cutely. Skin running as feverish as his, perhaps, while she coats his lips with slick fluid. It's getting close to uncomfortably hot pressed up to her core, and he hopes he's at least fueling heat equally as intense inside her.

Everything seems to _tighten_ when she gets close. Her flexing legs and fingers digging into his scalp are as effective a warning as her verbal one. His tongue, swiping briskly along her twitching cunt encourages her. More and more—then, latching onto her clit again he suctions hard. Yona gasps, rolling her hips into his mouth, and once that happens it's over. Her arm whips up to muffle her cry in her sleeve as she convulses around him. Tremors run through her form as Yoon stays put where he is, letting her ride it out until she's satisfied.

Eventually, panting, her body goes limp. When he lifts his head, he can see the outline of her chest rhythmically rise and fall. He pets her thigh idly, sweat-dampened skin sticking slightly to his palm. The shadow of her morphs and he can tell she's staring at him when he runs his tongue over his cold lips.

"What?"

"Oh, I was just thinking...um. You're surprisingly skilled at this."

He snickers, huffing in amusement. "It was that good?"

"I-I mean—" Her voice echoes the fluster lost in the darkness. "—I'm saying that because you've never—" 

"I'm glad," he says. He wonders if his own voice gives him away as well, if she could hear his smile or the way his pride swelled. "...If I couldn't do this much for you, I wouldn't be able to call myself a genius."

"Mhm. You're really considerate. I think anyone would be lucky to have someone who paid as much attention as you do."

Yoon ignores how his heart rate ramps up at a simple compliment. In lieu of a reply, he shifts up onto his hands and knees, crawling over to lie on his side next to Yona. She turns her head towards him, and his pupils dilate to see confusion spelled out across her face. "Is that it for tonight?"

"You don't need to return the favor."

She frowns. "Are you sure? I thought you might want me to do the same for you."

"I want to kiss you."

Confusion blooms into shock. It's an embarrassing request, somehow a great deal more than asking her to suck him off (and that is _so_ wrong, a part of him jeers). But he doesn't falter, staring at her hard as her lips purse and her eyes avert. Was it a trick of the light, or was her face darkening in color too?

"That's no good. You should do that with someone you like."

"I like you enough," he responds plainly.

"Th-That's not what I mean..."

_Yeah. I know._

A casual smile will hopefully allay the worry that must be weighing on her mind. "Don't worry about that. How is kissing worse than what we've been doing? It's just another urge." Nothing more, his words imply.

That was their agreement.

That this wasn't serious, and it’s just blowing off steam.

And that won't change.

"You really want to?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." Swallowing, he raises his hand to fit around the nape of her neck. Yona's gaze snaps back to him and it takes a lot of his willpower to not flinch away in panic. "But it's fine if you don't."

"No, that's not it, it's just...you just..." Her eyes fall to his lips, visibly awkward. It takes a few seconds for him to comprehend.

 _"Oh."_ Feeling like an idiot, Yoon withdraws his hand from her to cover his mouth, going beet red. "Sorry. I w-wasn't thinking. I could..." He's floundering. Instead of calling it quits and saying "never mind, goodnight" like he ought to, he instead blurts out: "I've got a flask of water I can rinse with?"

Yona stares at him blankly. However, just as he's ready to take it back—

"Pfft." Her shoulders shake as a half-giggle escapes. "Yoon, you're adorable."

"How!?" he whispers loudly.

Laughing quietly, she takes his hand so she can twine their fingers together.

And then she kisses him.

It catches him by complete surprise. Frozen, with blue eyes wide open, he registers first the feeling of her slightly chapped lips. They're warm and soft, and the contact is sweet; so much that the chasteness is giving him whiplash. His eyelids fall shut, the first part of him to relax before the rest melts into the kiss at once. It's not particularly long, but it leaves him with a fluttering in his chest and a breathless, weak feeling all the same.

"Not as bad as I thought," she murmurs, touching her lips. Then she clarifies, "Erm, the taste."

It takes a moment for him to phrase this next proposal.

"Not bad enough that you’d want to do it again?"

She smiles and nods quickly.

That night, Yoon kisses her and kisses her and kisses her and he swears to her that he doesn't need anything else. He's been spoiled lately. They've fooled around long enough and it wouldn't kill him to drift off semi-hard, like he did before this started.

Even when it takes a long time for him to fall asleep afterward, it was more than enough, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha sorry I lied this is going to be three chapters instead because I wanted them to fuck in this chapter but couldn't slot it in naturally. Oh well.


	3. Mere Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The self-consciousness he'd felt earlier pales in comparison to this. He may better understand what her enemies went through whenever they met her eyes: pools of concentrated violet that seemed to perceive beyond skin to soft, gooey insides. Those eyes had a way of disarming the worst of men. They clearly meant disastrous things for him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit who the fuck put all this plot in my porn.
> 
> Bear with me, this is where things get less canon compliant, sorta. Also, this is going to be four parts now because this chapter got too long—oops. All because I got bored with the tent... Hope you enjoy!

Before the death of King Il, he hadn't given a second thought to the ruling elite. Any government that left its people to struggle and dry out like worms in the sun wasn't worth an ounce of reverence.

That was a principle Yoon stood by since he was old enough to understand the dreadful state of this country. Having been born into the dregs of society, he hadn't known that basic truth for a long time. Because the first step in dumbing people down is taking away the necessities. An empty stomach takes priority over everything else. No time to think about the why of it all when your insides are ravaged by hunger pangs. Need curdles in the empty spaces of your skull until it drives every thought and every move. Increase that tenfold since there is also warmth, shelter, drink, clothing, always more, countless things to procure.

There's never enough to go around, but that's just how things are. What are the heavens to someone who has known nothing but rock bottom their entire life? How are you to know that things could be better?

The reality becomes clear once you pay attention. He learned from the curses of those older and jaded, the uncaring government officials who seldom passed through, and most importantly, what literature about the upper class he could get his hands on. It was a gradual, defeating realization—that there were people able to raise them from poverty with a pinky lift, but chose not to because they valued excess and sport far more than their dying subjects.

Yoon had held a deep hatred for the royals. He recognized that resentment wouldn't ever fade completely, not unless sweeping changes were made. Maybe not even then.

But she was nothing like them.

Since they met, Yona has steamrolled every assumption he'd made when he realized who she was. And not effortlessly on her part. It was clear to everyone how desperately she wanted to leave behind that spoiled, ignorant girl at the castle, perishing with the comfortable life that'd been taken from her in a single night. She wasn't that girl anymore. She could command the four dragons of legend. She could protect the people of Kouka Kingdom. She could _fight._ Over time, she had fought and pushed through flame, battered her own body to become something more useful than a pampered princess. He almost couldn't believe she was a royal. She wasn't like them.

An ordinary princess, for example, would not jump in front of someone about to be sliced in half by a sword.

At the outskirts of a nowhere, Podunk town, they get into a scuffle with a notorious band of thieves. Darkness had already fallen by the time their crew intercepts the their efforts to ransack every place they can come across. Their numbers are surprising, crowds of men ranging spindly to burly picking through houses and shops, as unwelcome as infesting hordes of rats. More an empire than a band, really. But if it were only those factors at play, that still wouldn't have been much of a challenge to deal with.

They're notorious for a reason. They fight smart, not hard, and run circles around them by using the fact that they were near a settlement to their advantage. They're the worst kind of criminals, slippery, and so blinded by avarice that one of theirs had no issue raising a weapon to an innocent civilian. The dragons and Hak are caught between defending the town and toppling waves of men. Meanwhile, Yoon's running around the map as he gives medical aid to the townspeople who'd also fought, the place where he's needed the most switching at any given moment. Sweat pouring down his head soaks into his eyelashes. He starts having to will the shaking out of his arms and fingers. His vision tunnels to whoever he's helping, and the people and traded blows around him blur to insignificance.

On the fringes, one person notices the little straggler among the frenzy.

"No!" Her voice breaks out above the din.

Six other heads twist around and around to find her. There are far too many people.

_Where._

_Where._

_Where._

The blade, at its highest point, glares under the night sky it pierces.

Five dozen of their foes flop to the ground, now useless rag dolls.

Then it swings.

_"Yona!"_

Never mind royal status. An ordinary girl would not take that attack head on. Not for a young boy who had fallen over, defenseless and turned to stone with fear.

It was pure luck that the angle of the sword perfectly sliced the length of her forearm and nothing else. She'd raised the back of her hand to guard her face, and if she'd failed to make that exact decision within that split-second, it would have cost her greatly. It was perfect in the way a stray raindrop hitting your tongue in the wake of a thunderstorm is. Unbelievably puny a margin for error that when she'd gotten off with only a deep gash down her arm, liquid crimson overflowing as a scream tore from her throat, it all spiraled from there.

It was too close. Everyone knew that.

The fury of Kouka's strongest made quick work of the rest of them before they'd rushed to get medical attention. Even if their own damage was nothing to sneeze at, the way they fretted would have fooled anyone. She'd lost enough blood to pass out, after all. They were at least able to limp towards the nearest inn, their staff eager to house the people who fended off the hostiles. It allowed Yoon, who had minimal injuries, and three other aides enough room to properly patch everyone up.

It's been hours of nothing but rest, going between rooms, and tending to wounds since then. Their extra help had returned to town once the group's condition had stabilized. The damaged property and other injured would likely keep them busy for the rest of the night—Yoon knows _he's_ going to be kept up for a while. The workload isn't taxing, especially with Zeno here; mostly just tedious, though a nagging ache resurges with every movement. The last of his adrenaline had trickled out since they'd dragged everyone here and he'd kept working past that point. Zeno's high-spirited company at least distracts him from that once everyone else had fallen asleep.

Until he falls asleep too. And once he's out, he's out for however long he feels like, because Zeno is a rock when he's unconscious. Thankfully, he wasn't as heavy as one (unlike the other guys), so Yoon can drag him into a futon without too much struggle. When that's done, he plops into a chair with a low creak and rolls the back of his head over the top edge. He runs a hand through his hair, letting loose a ragged groan as he slips a damp palm down his face.

It was nothing he couldn't handle on his own. The worst of it was over, so he could fit in a few power naps between check-ups from here on. There might be room for one after the next round of slathering ointment and re-bandaging cuts. Behind shut eyes, tendrils of exhaustion encroach, attempting to seize him.

He sits up straight. Slapping both cheeks, he inhales fast.

His eyes burn as he opens them, and his legs do too upon standing up.

Time to fetch some water.

* * *

The next day is spent recovering.

For Yoon, that primarily means making up for lost sleep during daylight. The inn's attendants and a doctor they'd called in had taken on his initial tasks, now that the town is in better shape and their families were confirmed safe. The staff is a kind lot, cooking robust meals and retrieving anything they need while insisting that they stay in bed. Nobody except for Zeno, whose pristine state naturally raised a couple of eyebrows, leaves the inn for the first half of the day.

Yoon feels better by the time he actually starts his day, well into the afternoon by that point. That wouldn't do any favors for his sleep schedule, but he would have several nights to fix it. Considering their distance from Hiryuu Castle, they're not going anywhere soon with the state they're in. Speaking of—he sweeps the room to check up on everyone else.

Hak is the only person who's awake. He lies supine, pupils dully sweeping up as Yoon stands over him. "How're you holding up, Thunder Beast?" Hands perched on his hips, he bends forward slightly, looking down at the man. 

"Been better." He yawns hugely. "They keep squawking at us to stay in bed. Wish they'd at least let us walk around a little."

"Can you even get up?"

"Sure," Hak replies casually. He raises a finger to scratch one side of his head, right above his bandage wraps. "If I try. I've been in worse shape before."

"Well, in any case, they're right. Just rest up and don't cause any trouble."

"Okay, Mom."

Yoon takes a few steps to reach for his bag, waiting for him at a corner of the room. He drops to a crouch and turns the flap over. The honey jar is almost empty. He should trade for more while he restocks medical supplies. As he continues taking inventory, he wagers a guess at the other's intentions. "Did you want to see Yona?"

The silence from the Thunder Beast is short-lived but notable enough to make Yoon look back in his direction.

"Nope. I'm good." His gaze narrows further to near slits up at the ceiling. "The princess needs to be ignored every now and again."

He's upset. Yoon can't say that he blames him.

The medic puffs out a sigh, standing up again as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "I'm going into town for a while. Do you need me to get anything?"

"High-quality sake."

"Throw yourself off a cliff, please."

"I need to recover first."

"It's either that or answer seriously."

Hak gives a faint chuckle. "I don't need anything. Have a safe trip."

"Yeah, I will. See you later."

On his way out, he stops in front of Yona's door.

There's talking inside; probably her and a staff member, as he doesn't recognize the other voice. They're not speaking loud enough for him to comprehend what they're saying, but she sounds well. He tilts his ear toward the door, hearing her laugh mingle with another.

Yona is good at that. She's a natural when it comes to other people, better than anyone else at being open and relaxed with almost everyone she crosses paths with. It didn't matter how long she'd known them, or how long they would stay in her life. He can picture her as she remains lying down, smiling like she wasn't injured in bed and like she _wasn't_ at the heart of the battlefield last night.

Another pair of laughs. His eyes affix to the floorboards, chest clenching just as his fist does around the bag's strap.

You wouldn't think that girl had been a marginal error from being sliced in two.

* * *

The trip eats up the rest of the daylight, but it's a productive few hours. Even after sleeping for so long, he was able to replenish his supplies and help out some in parts of the town hit hardest by the raid. When he returns in the evening, everyone's a bit more lively. All of them at some point or another are able to eat dinner. With both of Kija's arms banged up, he needs assistance with his meal. He apologizes profusely to the lady tasked with feeding him. Jae-Ha, on the other hand, doesn't hesitate to ask the tall, wiry young fellow who'd brought a fresh supply of towels for help—Yoon'd had to shut that down by lifting the green dragon's right arm by his wrist ("Look, it works perfectly fine. Sorry on his behalf for troubling you.").

Yoon tells the attendants that he can treat everyone for the night. They'd been working all day, and if he was going to be awake, he might as well make himself useful. One of them gives him an oil lamp to use before the lights go out.

For the first few hours, nothing of note happens. There are more breaks than last night, which he spends by reading. He'd picked up a sizable book on medicinal herbs in the previous town they'd stopped at. A lot of them he's already familiar with, but there are some uses outlined in it that are worth taking note of. He commits them to memory and that kills some time, though, a casual reading isn't the best for these long nights. Once he'd gotten halfway through, he decides to put it down again and get back to work.

It's then that he speaks to Yona for the first time since their encounter with the bandits. It must be past midnight, so he maneuvers carefully, slipping into her room quiet as his own shadow. But she's already sitting up in her futon.

"Yoon?"

"You're awake," he remarks, closing the door behind him.

Someone had given her nightwear to change into. Something loose and thin and light blue, forming a wide "v" that meets below her collarbone. "Yeah..." She smiles, brushing her fingers at the topmost edge of her arm bandaging. "It kind of hurts."

"Do you want something for pain relief?" He's already rolling up his sleeves.

"That would be great. Thank you."

Setting the lamp by her pillow, he sits cross-legged on the floor beside her. As he removes the wraps and dressing, he tells her about the gel he's preparing to slather on her arm. She nods along, listening attentively as he lists the ingredients' healing properties. The jagged path carved into her arm has darkened with self-repair. The flesh around it is currently blotched up a feverish red, swelled and tender. Still, it seems to be healing with no problems, to his relief.

Two fingers rub across her arm. The pressure remains light, evenly spreading globules of medicine to a thin, transparent coating atop her skin. "This is going to protect against infection, but the pain might not go away entirely." It's not as strong as he would have liked and that thought knits his brows together. He keeps entertaining what he could do to make the senjuso into a similar product, but for all his genius, Yoon is not an expert in medicine. Not yet.

"That's fine. I'll pull through," she assures him. "I can feel it starting to work, so it's definitely helping."

Daring a glance at her face, his forehead releases some of its tension. "It's working already? Good." She's locked onto his fingers, and the gold-orange flecks in her irises wobble in the light. Right then, as he's staring, he realizes her hair must have also been brushed earlier since it lacked the tangles and split ends that usually twisted her red locks every which way.

Wait, staring?

Yoon disregards the heat crawling up his back and refocuses his attention on her arm.

In the middle of her wound re-wrapping, she inquires, "How are things? Is everyone doing okay?"

"Mostly. It's just been quiet." Relatively speaking. "Those attendants are pretty impressive, getting those guys to stay in bed."

"Oh, really? I thought I was the only one."

"Even I had to haggle with them to let me out. Can you believe it? Trying to refuse a face like mine..." He shakes his head, then tucks the end of the strip underneath to finish. "So I went into town right after I woke up."

"Luckyyyy. I hope the others weren't too jealous."

 _They probably have bigger things to worry about,_ he thinks, remembering his conversation with Hak. As he watches her, he wonders if he should even bring up what's on his mind. It's not his business. If they were going to have a fight later that would inevitably devolve into aggressive flirting, there was no use saying anything now. Yona rotates her arm carefully, examining his handiwork. Her pleased expression belies the pain he knows must still be lingering under layers of cloth.

Just because she can ignore the stunt she pulled, does that mean it was really so unimportant that he could?

He sighs.

"I think the Thunder Beast is angry with you."

"Eh?" She looks up, lowering her arm. "...Because I jumped in front of that boy?"

He gives a toneless hum.

"Ahh. He's always like that, worrying about me all the time...but it's not that I don't understand why. Hak has been protecting me for a long time, so I'm probably going to get scolded later." Cocking her head to the side, she laughs a bit. "I should really apologize to him when I get the chance." The sound of good humor rings through, clear as resounding bells.

And it sends a twinge of irritation through him.

"He's not the only one." He meets her eyes, serious. "Yona. All of us were worried. Jumping in front of a sword... Do you understand how close that was?"

Her face softens. "I'm sorry I worried everyone."

"That was extremely reckless. You could have been killed." His words tumble out as if barely waiting for her. "That sword would've slashed through your chest if you didn't block it, and _you_ wouldn't have been able to recover from that." The finality of that statement settles like sickness in his stomach. It was a reality far too close for him to be okay with.

"I know I could have died. I fully understand what we choose to risk our lives for," she asserts, somehow soft yet firm. "And everything turned out fine."

"Fine?" he snaps. "That doesn't matter. There's a difference between taking risks and being stupid!"

"All I was thinking of in that moment was how I could save that boy."

"So why did you assume sacrificing yourself was the only option? And then you go on, acting like...like nothing happened?" It's getting too hard to keep the waver from his voice, and she picks up on that, staring wide. "H-How lowly do you value your own life if you think you can just—"

"Yoon—"

"—just—s-so _easily...!"_

Planting his palm to his forehead, he drops his chin over his chest. He breathes deeply as he rapidly blinks away the bitter sting threatening to overwhelm his vision. Those feelings double up as he finds himself swaddled in a one-armed hug. He returns it right away, holding her as close as possible without hurting her. Eyes shut tight, the corners are dotted with tears as she talks to him, low and soothing and deeply compassionate:

"I'm sorry," and then,

"It's okay," and then,

"I'm right here."

How incredibly like her. She was the one who had a brush with death and he's the one getting worked up. Anxiety stiffens his flesh into a brittle husk ready to split open. His nails bunch up her clothing and his throat constricts around a hard lump, but still, the dam doesn't burst. 

"You _scared_ me," Yoon whispers back, at last. "...moron. So stupid. Why do you have to be such a pain?" And he squeezes her so gentle that it can't possibly carry the conviction he means it with. That he _wants_ to convey to her.

"You're right. Even though I'm still weak, I made a reckless decision like that. Because I was only moving." Yona shifts further in as best as she can. Her chin alights the hollow of his neck as her arm tightens around his back. "When I think back to it, I'm terrified beyond belief. But at that moment, I only thought..." she trails off. When she finds her voice again, it's tight with sorrow. "'If I can help it, I never want to see a child die because of my inaction ever again.'"

"Yona..."

"That's not an excuse, I know. And I don't intend to throw my life away."

His body delays in cooperating as she begins moving out of his arms. He's on the very edge of accepting her ending their embrace the moment she places her lips on his cheek. A seal on her avowal that leaves that spot on his skin tingling after she pulls back. "So I'll have to think harder next time."

Although he's calmed down, the lack of distance between them suddenly makes it hard to breathe in a completely different way. But he doesn't attempt to lessen their closeness, even as he briefly turns away to wipe the moisture from his eyes. Warmth rises in his cheeks, hands migrating to her shoulders. "...You better."

He delivers a kiss to her lips. It's supposed to be like hers, prolonged and tender, but it becomes more involved than that when Yona cranes her head into it. Maybe he misread her and that was all she intended for them. Maybe she would have pulled away soon after. Maybe, no matter how much he didn't want to believe it, he merely jumped at the chance.

Either way, it has to say something that neither of them goes against the direction this is taking them in.

There's something different about this. It could be that he was still raw, going from on the verge of tears to making out with Yona. But what he feels that it is, more than anything else, is the light: they've never done this with such visibility. He'd gotten used to subdued moon beams peeking through gaps in their tent as their minimum light source, if they were lucky. Gray and black shapes that only seemed to materialize once he had his hands over them, stroking them, squeezing them. Then after they finish her edges melt into darkness, his focus wanes and she merges with the night. Just another indulgent dream he keeps going back to.

It's a little ridiculous to fixate on this as much as he is. Yona is here, always has been. Her leaning in and letting the heat of her breath blend with his is as familiar as it is hot. Their eyes are closed. It's the fact that he could open his at any point and see her with perfect clarity that somehow makes _him_ feel terribly exposed. She's here. She's kissing him. He's on edge.

But he's also really excited.

He wants to savor this. He takes his time with her, slotting their lips together unhurried. While he keeps his hands on her shoulders, her single hand sees fit to travel. Loose fingertips trail up his back, moving behind his head to brush past his hair before slipping around, resting along the fine angle of his jaw. Lightly smacking her mouth to his, she allows them both a breath, then presses his face closer. Yona tastes subtly of tea, or so he would guess from the bitter note of her lips. He'd had a cup earlier, too. It tastes better on her.

Her tongue prods him. He accepts her request for entry, and that's slow too despite the upped intensity. It's nothing new, every step of this they've done again and again, and yet she wanders his mouth with sweet curiosity. In the middle of it, her nose bumps against his, she giggles, and he grins a little. Another breath, a reprieve of one, two seconds—she darts between his lips again, chasing his warmth. At this point, he thinks "curiosity" is too tame a word for it. A shudder rolls down his back as he realizes she's taken the lead.

Not for long, if his pride had anything to say about it. Though there's no gap anymore he closes in, igniting a fire that he's sure she can feel too, judging from the muffled moan that evokes. His tongue quarrels with hers, slightly indignant. She's matching him move for move, until she has the nerve to separate just enough to catch his bottom lip between her teeth _._ Feeling her sink in, something bordering on a growl rumbles from him to her. Before he knows it, his hands are lost in her thick, red hair and running down her front. He feels her soft breast through the flimsy clothing (barely suppressing the urge to linger there), traces his palm down her ribs and the side of her stomach, latches onto her hip, pushes his body forward and—

"Ow," she hisses, jerking away as her palm lands on the floor behind her.

In an instant, the room drops ten degrees.

"Sorry," he says, guilty. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm just a little tender." She chuckles. "How about I lie down?"

Sudden doubts fill him. "Should we really be doing this? You're hurt."

"It's not like we haven't done it while injured before."

"But still..."

Yona lays her hand on top of his, smiling in her "you worry too much" way that he can't stand because he can't ever argue against it. "I'm not that badly hurt. It's mainly my arm. Also, it's been a while since we've done this, hasn't it? I want to keep going. I..." Shyness is quite a look on the girl who'd just tried to suck his soul through his lips. She squirms girlishly, admitting, "I want to keep kissing you."

Who in the world would say no to her?

Yoon would love to know. Because he's definitely not one of those people.

He nods dumbly.

She pushes the blanket aside and lies flat on the futon. Carefully, he swings a leg and arm to the other side of her, casting a light shadow over her small frame. She gazes up at him, short hair splayed out on either side like a scarlet butterfly. The vibrant color stands out against her fair skin and light blue nightgown. The latter of which had crumpled, uneven at her arms with a sleeve nearly falling past her shoulder.

Heat stirs deep in his stomach. His bangs droop down, revealing more of the unsure creases of his forehead and eyebrows as he asks, "Like this?"

No response.

The self-consciousness he'd felt earlier pales in comparison to this. He may better understand what her enemies went through whenever they met her eyes: pools of concentrated violet that seemed to perceive beyond skin to soft, gooey insides. Those eyes had a way of disarming the worst of men. They clearly meant disastrous things for him. 

He tucks that sentiment behind concern. "Yona? Are you okay?"

"Oh—" At her name, she returns to herself. "Sorry. You're really pretty."

He clears his throat loudly.

...To distract from the exploding heat in his cheeks, of course. "That's weird," he responds evenly. His eyes lower to half lids, making a loose fist as his thumb and index finger take her chin. "I was thinking the same thing about you."

He kisses her. This time, he's more cautious, and as a result Yona makes her enthusiasm to escalate to where they had been apparent with her gentle coaxing. He doesn't want to be a wooden table looming above her, so he mirrors her motions to work up his confidence again. It's better to err on the safe side and let her take the reins while he feels out what's good and what's not.

There have been times where he's had to do this prior to now, even if they've never had to stop in the middle like they just did. He knows, generally, what areas to avoid. Some of her injuries are repeat offenders. He'd learned, had tended to her dozens of times before this thing between them happened. There's a hard-won trust and respect between doctor and patient that made the change between them surprisingly smooth.

Yoon worries, however. It's fortunate that Yona knows him just as well, because he would've been fine letting the stiffening length in his pants go unattended otherwise. Her hand pushes at the square of his back, making him grunt as her lower half smothers him. His hips drag laboriously between her inner thighs, extracting pleasured sighs from them both. That fabric is so _thin._ The skirt covers her like a coat of paint, almost, conforming to the curves of her legs and the sensitive apex they meet at.

At first, he tries not to focus on it, laying off the pressure as he focuses on her lips. But it proves difficult to draw this experience out when her legs keep shifting so much. Her softness enveloping him once more, she moans into his mouth, the sound shooting a thrill along his spine that reaches his cock. As soon as he twitches against her cunt, she shoves at his shoulder to end their kiss.

"Can't breathe," she gasps. She ruts into him, forcing out a groan from him. "I want more..."

They trade huffs and pants as his weight settles over her as lightly as he can manage. Once he'd clasped both hips to press them to the futon, he grinds his erection to her throbbing slit. In that mind-numbing daze of gyrating hips, he swears he can do this for hours. He'll push it as far as it'll go. It doesn't matter as long as she wants it. He doesn't care.

That falls apart the second her suggestion comes in a wispy, desperate breath.

"Do you want to put it in?"


	4. Boiling Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He'll never be satisfied again. He'll never be so content with himself again, he swears, not unless he can climb towards his fullest potential and affect positive change with his skills. Yoon had to thank Ik-Soo at some point for helping him understand how much of a waste it'd be for him to live in seclusion for the rest of his days. He understands his place in this world, now more than ever._
> 
> _And standing by Yona's side makes him happy._

Every single muscle of his locks in place to bring an abrupt end to the rhythm they had going. His body remains there caging hers, hands holding her down, legs framing her lower half. Frozen on top of her, yet stiffly warm at her thigh.

"Do I... What?" Yoon bumbles out. He lifts himself off of her and that eases their suddenly overwhelming proximity. It's not enough. But it also allows him to look directly at her so he can try again: "Are you being serious?"

Twin hints of color on her cheeks highlight her tipsy desire. "Of course I am. Do you not want to?" The delicacy of her phrasing throws him for a loop and careening into a mild panic. He must be giving himself away, as she amends, "You don't have to say yes." This close, he can just about feel her face billowing out steam around the red she glows. Amid the flush that is growing closer to the shade of her hair, drops of purple meander off to the side. "Only if...if you would be alright with having me."

It's a line he wouldn't have crossed. Because, come on.

Having sex with Yona. Even teetering on the brink of euphoria, that thought is weird.

But it's not as if it's never crossed his mind before. His libido and his brain weren't these estranged entities, so if he was this wildly attracted to her, tangled up in every other possible way with her, it was natural his thoughts would drift there. It didn't mean he had to entertain it. Every time his imagination happened to stray that far, he'd shut it down immediately.

Okay, they've had each other in the way of hands and mouths more times than he could remember. That irony isn't lost on him, certainly not as they sought after the numbing warmth of another on those nights—the _only_ other they could reach for, most nights. He knew her so intimately now. They could go months without doing anything and he'd never, ever forget their nocturnal entanglements, how she felt beneath his fingertips, entwined in his hair, kissing him delirious. He'd begun to memorize her as he would any text, but the difference here is that Yona is a far more intoxicating experience.

A thumb pressing into her hip bone. A sweet word at his ear. An ache that he inflicted. He would permit himself hunger for the knowledge and devour her secrets as long as they stayed mutualistic. The line he'd drawn in the sand was definite.

That's why he can't be too greedy. He wouldn't consider chastity one of his principles or anything, but actual sex was something partners did, wasn't it? It's intimate in the same way a kiss in public is, and just as unnecessary for their purposes. It's not like Yona was dissatisfied with their arrangement either, not once has she implied that. Going further than they have been is a marker of a status he knows better to aim for.

Isn't it?

They're friends.

Outside of these late nights, nothing has changed between them.

He…

...didn't think they had.

"Listen. I know we've been doing—" _Everything else._ "—this for a while. I'm enjoying it, don't get me wrong, but even more than that... I'm happy if I can just help you unwind. There's absolutely no one else I would do this with." There are a million reasons to keep these words under lock and key to sit forever in his chest. He would have, normally. For a prickly, standoffish, and dishonest person like him, it's out of character. This had to be her rubbing off on him.

The reach of her influence becomes very obvious all at once. He's hyperaware of himself and Yona lying there, gazing up at him doe-eyed and releasing, drawing breath through the slightest gap of her lips. Waiting for him to drop the "but" statement they both knew was coming. She is sure and steadfast in her patience, unlike him. 

Yoon is flushing, and it's not just his face but everywhere as blanket heat unfurling under his skin. His confidence collapses in on itself as he finishes lamely, "But I don't know about this."

"You're unsure?"

"I don't want us to get caught up in the heat of the moment."

There's a veil of offense to her response that is loose but unexpected regardless. "I can't speak for you, but I'm not getting caught up."

"No, ugh, you don't understand..." When he ducks his head, forehead bumping up to collarbone, his teeth scour his bottom lip. "I—I want to. I do. I just don't want to be impulsive and regret it later."

It's like the more nervous he is, the calmer she gets. She speaks with a smile that can be heard. "Yoon, I'm not trying to be rude, but I feel like you're overthinking things. It's because we've been doing this that I know I can trust you. N-Not that I didn't already, but I mean when it comes to things like this," she admits quietly. "...Like making me feel good."

"Yona?"

He's struck by how tiny he makes himself sound.

And _why_. What is she doing to provoke this reaction? She hasn't laid a finger on him, it's true. But his feelings for her thrash around like boiled snakes underneath his ribs.

"If you feel the same way, it's alright. You don't have to feel weird about wanting more."

It doesn't _have_ to be weird is what she means.

_"Overthinking things." Right._

Not doing that is easier said than done. But to her credit, Yona tries her best to quell his worries, raising her good arm to pet his lowered head. Her fingers card through messy upper bangs, displaced from all the face-to-face. "Do you trust me, too?" she asks, gently bringing his cheek closer to one side.

"I never said I—"

Her lips graze the shell of his ear.

"Yes or no."

"...Yes," comes his answer, jerked out of him as if snagged on a hook.

Her lips connect with the area just beneath his earlobe, planting kisses down the small distance to his shoulder. She questions, every bit as tender as the touch on his skin, "Then what's wrong?" This affection is familiar, yet not, with a pleading note that leaves him simmering in his own fluster.

He's at a genuine loss for words. He can barely think with her this close and probing him too much for her own good. What does he even say here? That he's trying to show some self-restraint and she's giving him a hard time for it?

At that moment, it clicks.

_...Wait._

And the absurdity of their conversation finally dawns on him.

"I..." For a moment, he was so taken by Yona that he hadn't realized—he pulls apart from her. "...don't remember you ever being this aggressive. What's up with that?" It's plain to see from her open jaw that he's caught her off guard with the accusation, but he isn't done talking yet. He quirks a brow at her. "Did you get some pointers from Jae-ha or something? Seduction tips?"

And that is the needle that bursts her composure.

"H-Hey! I did not!" Her shade of red takes on another meaning so fast that it's borderline comical.

"I know I'm good-looking, but I didn't think even you would want a bite." He sits up on her stomach, folding his arms in a huff. "You pervert."

The girl sputters and eventually squawks a "No!" wriggling beneath him. "That's not it! I was trying to...um, encourage you! Because...your face was...you s-seemed really shy, so I couldn't help..." Hiding her face behind a hand, she smothers a moan of despair. "Never mind. I really didn't mean to come off like that. I am so sorry."

It's impossible to stop himself from breaking character after that. He can't suppress the grin that stretches his face or the boyish, delighted laughter that springs from it.

"Yooooon," she whines.

"You're so cute, Yona."

"I'm not!"

She's still covering her face as he gets off of her to stand up. Good, let her lie there in mortification while he shucks off his pants. Only when she hears the soft thump of clothes landing on the floor does she peek through her fingers. He can see question marks popping up as he steps to her good side, getting into a kneel by her head.

"We were talking for so long that I got a bit soft," he states, watching as she peels her hand off her face to get an eyeful of bare, slender legs and package. "...What's that look for?" He cradles her by the back of her head, a twitch in his lips forming into a faint smirk. "If we're doing this, you need to excite me properly."

She snaps out of her badly disguised interest (a reaction that is dangerous for his pride). "Oh! Well then..." Eager to please, Yona takes hold of his shaft, loosely stroking up the entire warm length of him as he scoots in.

Leading him closer to her face, she pumps him twice, full-fingered this time. "I don't think I've ever seen you down here." So simple an observation that it sounds almost innocent. Her lips are close enough that he can feel her breath tickle his flesh, teasing him with a wet, hot pleasure that would only take one small _push_ through unbearably soft lips to achieve. "I like it." As if to drive to point home, she trails her tongue up the underside of his cock before placing a gentle kiss near the hood. "Is that a weird thing to say?"

Her bold attention fogs up his thought process, not helped by her drawing circles at the tip to make him grow slick under her thumb. "I don't know. Maybe." A shallow sigh slips out as she starts to spread precum over his dick with increasingly slick fingers.

"I'm not being too dirty?" There's an impish dance to her words.

"Don't push it." His nails press into her scalp. He kept them short for work, yet he's found that they're also good for gliding and scritching across skin to communicate other, deeper, unspoken things. "But...it doesn't bother me. That kind of talk."

Her murmuring laugh tells him that she knows what he's getting at. When the head of his cock hovers before her lips, her tongue swipes along the curve of her smile. The sight makes his blood rush south in preparation for the reason he'd taken to kneeling by her face. Her mouth starts puckered and opens over the tip to sleeve him.

"Careful with the teeth," he directs her. "Little more...okay, good..."

Once she's taken all of him in, Yona has to adjust to the inches in her mouth at this angle, Yoon remaining as still as possible so she can do that. It's so _tight,_ the fit of her lips around his erect cock, and the sight of her below him causes a guilty surge of satisfaction. It's one of the most erotic things he's ever seen...and also one of the cutest, somehow. Her hair winds and tangles around his steady hold.

"Can I move?"

She makes a noise that remains trapped in what little space there is between his dick and the inside of her mouth. It doesn't sound like an objection, so he begins to slide out, gradually so as to let her get used to the motions. Even though he has significantly more control in this position, Yona isn't about to make him do all the work. Bobbing her head in shorter, somewhat faster strokes, she supplements each of his slower pushes and pulls. 

It's on reflex that his idle hand reaches for the first thing it can think to grab. Their hands interlock and that causes her eyes to crease in mirth...fondness. One of those. She sucks, releases, and on the pullout her tongue swirls around his glans. A soft moan thrums up his throat. They pick up the pace, but not by too much, he makes sure of that. Still, it's treading risky territory when she slips out of the handholding to cup and massage his balls.

Having had enough of that, he exits completely, drawing a string of fluid from her bottom lip to his cock. It snaps as she pants out, "Too much?"

He gives her a pointed look, though it's mitigated by how laden with arousal it is, a fact that seems to amuse her. "I'm trying to _not_ get ahead of myself, if you don't mind," he says, though it has no effect on the utter lack of apology in her grin. Whatever. It's her turn. "I'm going to prepare you now. Is that okay?"

"Go ahead."

He makes his way down, and Yona spreads her legs apart to make space for him on the futon. Her skirt bunches around her thighs and Yoon hikes it up even further, forming two stacks of baby folds. After he's moved the unnecessary clothing out of the way so she's naked from the waist down, he takes pause. The dull injuries on her well-defined legs stand in contrast to her core, so pink and so _ready_ for him.

Yoon places his hands on her inner thighs. She's warm. Warmer, the higher up he travels, and as soon as he presses over her slit from the ball of his hand to the pads of his fingers, he can feel her dripping heat. Yona's breath hitches. It's good to know she's already this excited.

He dips two fingers in to coat his fingertips and smear her wetness along her opening. He senses the anticipation. In the lamplight, he can see it too, how that beautiful tension overtakes the muscles in her face and escapes through her nose as soon as he sinks a digit in. He pushes deep, feeling the inside of her suction as if barely having room. It is an exercise in futility to not wonder what that would feel like on his cock. That by itself would have him straining against the front of his tunic, but the inevitability is new and freeing and makes his head spin as an added bonus.

_Focus._

To loosen her up, he evenly pumps in and out, and when he's made her soft and wet enough he inserts a second finger.

"Still okay?" he asks.

"Y-Yes. Feels good."

Has she looked like this all along? He can't imagine that the Yona in his head, pieced together by vague glimpses caught in the dark, could have held a candle to this. Her sung praises paired with their expressions make him think that maybe he isn't as bothered by the exposure as much as he thought he was.

Under this light, however, he is just as transparent.

"You're staring at me a lot."

Yoon can't possibly deny it, but he can at least be defensive about it. "I can't help where my eyes go." And yet he's been staring down at his hand since she pointed it out. "Am I supposed to look somewhere in particular?"

"I know, but—" Her mouth closes around a balmy breath; his fingers curl inside her and draw out another. " _Ah,_ it's just...embarrassing, when you look at my face."

What's really embarrassing is how quick he is to pick up his gaze at her words. "...Don't focus on that. I'm just here to make it feel better," he soothes and it's almost as if they've gone back to earlier, careful in his treatment of her. Giving her the methodical care she didn't only _deserve,_ but urgently needed. His ministrations continue undeterred. "I'm good at this, aren't I?"

She nods.

"You like it when I pleasure you like this?"

She nods.

"Me too," he agrees, wearing a confident smirk. "I'm a results-first kind of guy. I like seeing that what I'm doing is working."

_So I don't ever want to take my eyes off of you._

"Can you take another one?"

She nods and screws up her eyes.

Two is adequate under normal circumstances, but he'd rather be thorough in preparation if he can. Their first time should be as smooth as possible. Perhaps that's not a good enough excuse for how eager he is to slip in the third digit, but she accepts it without complaint. He might have taken her strangled groan as one if her spine didn't arc off the blanket just to take him in deeper. _God._

Three fingers thick inside of her has her legs fumbling to make sure the ground hasn't disappeared under her body. Even his adagio pace evokes stifled moans, her chest stuttering with shortened respiration. _"Relax,"_ he sighs, finally descending over her once more. Using his diminutive height advantage for all its worth, he pecks her forehead. She then tugs the front of his tunic in request.

An idea emerges. He seals her lips and sucks on the tip of her tongue where he can taste himself. That's not a hindrance to him in the slightest, as he's more concerned with taking charge through steamy kisses. His attempt at diverting her attention lasts until her head tips back into the pillow, another moan spilling freely while he lavishes affection on the taut muscle at her neck.

"No more," her plea vibrates against his mouth, bringing a halt to his everything right away. "I can't take it anymore, Yoon, I need—" His fingers withdraw, instantaneous, and Yona cuts herself off with an intake of air sharp enough to cut through steel. Something about that has already got him sweating before he's even entered her. The head of his cock settles against her soaked folds as they exchange looks. There's no need for reason to hold back anymore with the mutual want stoking up a wildfire between them.

Except for one, potentially.

It's probably too late to ask, but he does so anyway. "If we do it inside, it's safe, right?" 

"Ah, yes. The timing is good." She says this with the confidence that can only come from a former heiress to the throne. "It should be alright."

"Okay, great."

This is one of very few times he'd prefer being "mother" as opposed to potential alternatives.

With that matter out of the way, he pushes into her, little by little. Her body regathers the tension he'd worked out of her the deeper he penetrates, Yoon having to pause partway inside. The air is heavy with anxious silence as he waits for her to get accustomed to his cock. The rest still goes in with a bit of struggle, her walls stretching around him, albeit the pleasurable sensation is dampened by her mild discomfort.

"I'm fine," she answers to the concern spelled across his face, breathless and hopelessly thrilled. "Mm—more than fine. Just. Go slow."

He hums in assent. "Tell me if you need me to stop."

Because her insides are slippery with a mixture of their fluids, it takes acute concentration to put in enough effort to push her without hurting her. But if Yoon has anything to take pride in, it's his self-control. Each slow, steady rock of his hips begins to stir her up, the wet drag of her walls around his hard length unraveling the knotted tension all over again. It's still too awkward to look at her face, so his eyes are drawn lower, where the relaxed drape of her nightwear forms her collar in two major folds.

There's a demanding tug at his wrist that ends in him holding her breast. "I'm not hurt over here," she whispers. He decides that this deserves the attention of both hands, palming, squeezing her chest through pale fabric to feel her mold to his fingers. He squishes her tits together with some level of intrigue and she stares at him pointedly.

His face crimsons. "Shut up. I'm a boy."

She smiles. "I know that now more than ever."

"Hey, you're not allowed to get cheeky with me." He pinches her nipple, making her squeak in protest and oh, can he _feel_ that. His cock gives a pleased throb. "Especially not when you're the one who offered."

"Okay, okay," she concedes with a defeated pout. "Jeez, just keep moving."

Yoon shakes his head but complies. He'd slowed with the distraction, so he ramps it back on pace, the strokes growing longer. Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he pulls apart her top from the shoulders down. Like her legs, her upper body displays evidence of last night's victory in the form of a few bruises. None severe enough to stop what he was doing—he leans down to take her breast into his mouth, sucking while he kneads the other. Her arm loops around his shoulder to hug him close, his front settling flush to hers.

So many freezing nights warming each other up didn't compare. He has never known heat like this, blooming so great and vast that his body feels far too small a container. Even her tiniest reactions hit him in the center of a boiling ache, every tremble in her thighs, every whine and moan in sync with her cunt clenching around him. It's a cycle of pleasure feeding pleasure as he fucks her, plunging to the hilt within her, then retracting all but the very tip, over and over.

As he moves to he give her other nipple the same treatment, he catches her bareness again. In addition to being battered from their clash with the bandits, her flesh bears signs of the hellish journey that got them this far: the firm muscles of her arms, some sun-grown freckles, scars faded to an off white. He remembers clicking his tongue and wiping blood off of the last of those. Although other parts of her required treatment more often, Yona gets hurt a fair amount. Too many times for him to be happy with, really.

He pops free of her breast to pepper kisses up her body, being careful to avoid her bruises. There is, fortunately, a lot of space to work with. Of the numerous injuries he's tended to in the past, most have healed so well that they've vanished altogether. His efforts pay off in a noise of approval that rumbles deep in her throat, akin to a purr.

These would disappear in due time as well.

For a brief moment he parts his lips and wonders if she would be bothered with one or two or more extra bruises.

He grits his teeth. His self-awareness must be fading, he thinks as her cry is the only indication that he's increased their speed. "Quiet," he tells her. "They'll hear you." These walls weren't as thin as their good old tent, but they weren't substantial enough for how noisy a lay an unchecked Yona would be.

"Sorry. Come up here?" she asks, and when his face is level with hers: "Higher."

There's not much "higher" he can go, but he does so to the best of his ability. "Yona, wha—"

Yoon nearly jumps out of his skin when she opens her mouth at the pale column of his neck. "Can I...?" The inquiry ghosts over his skin, followed by the top set of her teeth. He can't help but shiver.

_"You're unbelievable."_

_"Why would you even want to?"_

_"Of course you can."_

Those three thoughts overlap. 

All of them go unsaid. He stretches his neck out for her, and she doesn't need anything else in the way of confirmation. At first, her teeth sink down with light pressure, but she understands when he takes the back of her head and pushes her further in. The fresh pain of a developing mark on his neck is alien to him. He's dealt with his own share of injuries before, but never with the intent to mar his pretty skin and beget pleasure from doing so. He might have hated it if it had been anyone else.

But because it's Yona, he's melting into it instead. Where words fail him, he lets her know how he feels about it by driving into her harder. It's gotten a lot easier now that's he's struck a nice rhythm for it, and each messy slap of their colliding flesh just builds the escalating passion. Yona expresses herself more vocally than he does, but she at least has the benefit of putting her mouth to a different use. She mewls and sucks his skin sore, causing his hands to claw into the futon blanket.

The bite burns fierce after she's finally done. He looks down to see her examining her handiwork with pride, from what he can tell past his own sex-addled head. Yona wets her lips, meeting his eyes with such regal satisfaction that it makes him want to fuck it out of her.

Oh, good lord, what is he even thinking anymore? The only explanation is that he _isn't_ —this definitely isn't like him. But it's a chore to even care at this point. Far too gone to fake having more restraint than he does, his hips snap forward, knocking a guttural moan out of them both.

"I'm getting close," she rasps.

He knows. The tightening is a dead giveaway.

"So am I," he grunts.

"A little more, please...!"

It's a relief that he isn't the only one nearing the edge, but he wasn't planning to reach his peak before her. Sensation blurs to a singleminded focus: _Yona's_ pleasure, not her inner walls clamping down on his cock, not the enticing bounce of her form, not her hips mashing into each push of his. All of that, he ignores as he keeps hitting the deepest parts of her that he can reach, pinning her with a hand locked around her shoulder to ensure her injured arm wasn't jostled too violently in their haste to finish.

In a few short, heady thrusts, Yona gasps, throws her head back, and convulses hard. She starts to vocalize some distorted version of his name—he crushes his lips to hers, capturing the sound in a heated kiss before it can spill out of her. He can't let himself know how loud it would have been. The walls are thin and her ecstasy is his most wicked secret. 

The last ounce of his control trickles out. Pulling away from their kiss, he groans, low and throaty. His body seizes up as he releases inside her drenched and tight cunt. The most intense pleasure he's ever felt in his life eclipses everything for that moment.

She's still twitching afterward, her nerves undoubtedly sensitive after coming. Just pulling out elicits a little whimper in her. The fatigue crashes over him in a wave, sending him down to lie on his side, right by her side as they recover from the aftershocks. The futon is barely big enough to cushion him. For lack of a better place to rest, his arm circles over her waist, leading him to nestle against her. They take a minute to decompress.

Then, interrupting the lull of labored breathing and chests heaving, she finally says, "That was great."

"...Yeah..." He squeezes his eyes shut before they fly open again, trying to clear his mind of the remaining haze. "How long has it been...? I have to check on the others."

"Stay."

His brain lags at the simple command.

"I-I've been here a lot longer than I planned."

"Just a few more minutes. It won't hurt," she murmurs.

"Why?"

"I like having you here," she says with a dreamy smile. "What other reason is there?"

He shouldn't. He's spent enough time here. As much as he'd rather lie with her in blissed-out peace until the sun peaked through the window, as unappealing as the prospect of lugging his body up to get back to work is, that can't happen. His decision has already been made.

"...Fine."

A few minutes wouldn't hurt, indeed.

* * *

Later, Yona pays the remainder of her due for her slight during the bandit raid.

At the earliest opportunity the next day, everyone pools into her room despite their caretakers' insistence for them to rest. Asking for a full day of separation between the princess and her warriors was already pushing it, but it was especially bad when they'd been sitting on a mountain of worry. Of course they would come to her the second they were able to move without gushing out of their wounds.

It's every bit deserved, Yoon thinks, arms crossed and standing off to the side while Yona faces the onslaught of well-intentioned reproach from the rest. It resembles their conversation from last night, except louder, and without putting him into a state of near tears...and the consequent sex. Yona acknowledges her mistake as soon as she can get a word in, earnestly swearing that she won't pull something so rash again.

They're quick to forgive her recklessness—they always are. Though he's quick to note that Hak holds his tongue throughout the impromptu meeting. He keeps his back to the wall as he takes stoic watch over the others.

The next time he sees the two of them together, they've returned to interacting as usual. Yoon can guess that he likely talked to her alone afterward, even if he hadn't witnessed it himself. And that's fine. He didn't have to know the content of their private conversations if they worked it out; there are certain other members of their group who have a significantly more vested interest in their relationship than him. As far as Yoon as concerned, there are actually important issues at hand, and it's his job to remind them to focus on what's really important.

Namely, the town. Restoring it to the same place it was before the attack was going to take time. Once everyone in their party becomes well enough to start helping around outdoors, the progress speeds up exponentially. The area soon livens up with the hustle and bustle of their cooperation, all while the sun beats down on their weary, but fulfilled bodies. Yoon's contributions are aimed more towards the sick and injured, but he does his part to help rebuild as well. Right now, he was in the middle of helping local dealers recount their inventories to open up shop, hopefully sooner than later.

Midday rolls around, at which point Yoon finds respite under the shade of a storefront, leaning against empty wall as he takes a few meager sips from his canister. With a gentle exhale, he reaches up to tug the fabric swathing his neck in damp heat higher.

"Yoon-kun."

Yoon lets go of his shawl immediately. His arm lowers to a wave in greeting as he looks up at a familiar face, the right side of which is obscured by a long, green fringe. "Hey."

"Been working hard, I hope?" Jae-ha asks mildly.

"Like I'm never not."

That evokes a good-natured chuckle from the man. He joins Yoon in the thin strip of shadow, fanning himself with a hand. The collar of his robe appears to have been opened sometime before bumping into him, revealing a portion of his upper chest and the black top underneath. One corner of his mouth tugs up in a sly smile. "Well, I've been hard at work too. I just finished helping this beautiful woman fix up her house."

Yoon's expression flattens. "So showing off was a necessary part of that?"

"But of course! Whose spirits wouldn't be lifted by seeing a fine man like me strip?"

"Don't cause trouble, you perverted idiot."

"Plus, it's hot!" Jae-Ha fans himself again with a huff. He notes the blue garment still wrapped around his friend's shoulders with a curious glance. "Aren't you hot, Yoon-kun?"

"I'm fine. I've been inside for most of the day, so it's not too bad."

He hopes that his bangs hide the light sheen of sweat on his forehead well enough.

If it doesn't, Jae-Ha doesn't push it. Though if Yoon were anyone else, it might've been a different story. While Jae-Ha was a merciless tease, he at least knew who was cooking his meals, and thus didn't make a habit of picking on him that often. But in the unlikely case that he planned to go against his better judgment today, it would've been interrupted, regardless.

"If you're sure. Oh, look." 

Their attention is brought further in the distance as Yona walks into their field of vision. She's carrying a crate in one arm as Hak quickly catches up to her, making her head turn in his direction. They're far away enough that their conversation doesn't carry over here, but their bickering is clear from body language alone. Hak steals the crate from Yona, much to her annoyance.

"They get along so well," Jae-Ha remarks.

"Don't they."

Yona says something and Hak's chin dips down, probably looking at her concealed laceration.

"I do wonder when they're going to come to terms with it."

Yoon sighs. "You know they're denser than anyone else when it comes to this."

His smile takes on a more exasperated note. "Ah, maybe I'm getting old, but I don't understand at all. You should be honest while you're still young and free! Right?"

Jae-Ha isn't anywhere close to old, but that's not what sticks out in Yoon's mind. He turns back to him, cocking an eyebrow. "Is that why you're always provoking the Thunder Beast?"

"Ha." Though his face doesn't change, the humor in his voice falters. "Flattered that you would think so highly of me."

Eventually, Hak attempts to pull her injured arm up by the wrist. Yona flinches away before he can. He responds to her knee-jerk reaction with smug victory.

"You see," Jae-Ha starts after a moment. "You have to be direct with people like him, or else they won't get the message. Hak won't make a move unless he feels threatened, even if Yona-chan is the type who always has people flocking around her. Someone could swoop in and steal away a gem like her anytime..."

Yona resigns herself to walking beside him, her displeasure ultimately lost to a smile as they talk.

"So it's better if he realizes that soon."

Yoon goes, "And if there's a good reason he can't be upfront about it? Could be something we don't know about." They have some storied history. He had no doubt there were things about them yet to come to light after all this time.

Yona laughs at something Hak says, a sarcastic quip or a flirtatious comment that flies over her head. It could go either way.

"Hmm, perhaps. But take it from someone who has years under his belt dancing with passion—keeping those feelings bottled up doesn't help anyone in the end. They aren't going away that easily, no matter what he does about it."

The two leave their sight. Slanted violet eyes glide over to Yoon.

"Because I know real desire when I see it."

Right then, Yoon considers everything he's said up to now.

"...Desire?" he repeats.

Jae-Ha's visible eye smiles at him. Yoon breaks eye contact to splash his dry throat with some water, but during that time, his neighbor doesn't elect to elaborate.

Jae-Ha simply says, "There's only so much time in this world."

Yoon gets the message.

* * *

There's a little outcrop just outside of town with a few trees scattered about. Yoon has a knack for finding secret areas like this, because a guy needs some peace and quiet from the ruckus sometimes. He's found a good spot underneath a tree to stare out at the world. The setting sun dyes the sky with mixed red and purple as it's consumed by the horizon line minute by minute.

"This place is really pretty."

He starts, whipping his head around to see—

"Yona," he says, surprise dimming as he sets his gaze forward again. "You're right. It's nice out here."

"May I join you?"

He pats the spot next to him and she takes a seat.

"Whew! I'm spent. It's been a busy day."

"Well, I hope you can still get up later. We can't stay out here for long."

"I know," she sings. "I'm not that tired. It was so hot today, though."

"Uh-huh. Even though the sun is almost down, it's still warm. Feels like a hot spring around here."

"Then shouldn't you take off your..."

Without looking at her, he yanks down his shawl, blushing as he shoots a dull glare at a rock.

"...oh. Ahaha." Bashful, she twiddles her fingers. "Sorry, Yoon. I guess I shouldn't have done it there. But it's almost gone!"

Yoon sticks out his tongue at her before tugging it back up. "What a pain," he huffs.

Yona smiles and looks out at the sunset with him. He dares a glance at her, sees red hair and purple eyes, and finds the sight quite similar to his previous one. The beauty of the sky might have found its match.

Congratulations to him for the corniest thought he's ever had.

He returns his gaze to the sunset, eyelids lowering to half.

"Yona?"

Gradually, the earth will eat the sun and dye the world black. It's a truth as old as history, maybe as old as the gods themselves. A song from long, long ago he learned when he was young.

"What is it?"

_There's only so much time in this world._

Soon, it will be night.

His thudding heart slows.

"...Never mind."

She blinks at him. "Huh?"

"I forgot. Even I can't remember everything."

She hums, the last sound before they settle in the pleasant silence. Yoon is so relaxed and comfortable here that he lets his eyes shut all the way. He might already be asleep before his head drops to the side, finding a place on her shoulder.

A smile graces her lips as she leans her head against his.

* * *

_"Why is he so devoted to you? Is he your lover?"_

_The fugitive daughter of King Il shakes her head without hesitation._

_"No, not at all."_

_Yoon turns away with a look of pity._

_"I feel bad for him..."_

Without knowing anything about them, he understood the nature of their relationship from the beginning.

It felt as though it'd been a lifetime ago since he saw them lying out on the forest floor. Hak had held her close while he was beaten unconscious and dying, protective of his charge even as the poison fought with the last inch of his life. Yoon managed to treat him before that could happen, but their appearances had certainly fooled him at first, their injuries severe and clothes in tatters.

Back then, he couldn't have imagined how deeply he'd come to care about them. Yona was a princess, though a fallen one, and Hak was her shield. The inner affairs of royalty had naught to do with him, and while he hadn't liked Il, a coup hadn't inspired confidence in him for the new ruler of Kouka Kingdom. He'd been at peace just getting through every day with Ik-Soo. This was his life, and as long as he could provide for the only person who mattered to him, that would be enough.

Seeing the world flipped his outlook right on its head. He'll never be satisfied again. He'll never be so content with himself again, he swears, not unless he can climb towards his fullest potential and affect positive change with his skills. Yoon had to thank Ik-Soo at some point for helping him understand how much of a waste it'd be for him to live in seclusion for the rest of his days. He understands his place in this world, now more than ever.

And standing by Yona's side makes him happy. He's not strong like the others. He's not tall, muscular, or sturdy. Despite all of this, he is perfect in the way only he is capable of: he can be with her without things such as dragon's blood or a childhood bond getting in the way. And if he's a little selfish about it, experiencing the tingling possessiveness that Kija complains about—that Yoon is aware enough of in himself that he might envy the white dragon's ignorance—he can accept that so long as he wasn't the only one. Being selfish, that is.

Late at night, when the sky is black and his roommates are asleep, he'll press two fingers to the discolored mark on his neck that hasn't gone away yet. He'll wince and regret that she hadn't left it in a less conspicuous spot, but he'll relish in its existence anyway.

Because Yoon loves her, and he's known that since Awa, when they almost died on that ship and he was forced to admit that there was someone he wanted to protect more than anyone else.

They'd held each other tight, shaking and smiling in each other's battered arms.

_"You made the plan a success." Tears are stuck in her eyes and throat. "You really are a genius!"_

I'm not a genius, _he thinks._

**You're the amazing one.**

He just hadn't realized how far that love went.

Maybe he'll ask what possessed her to give it to him. Why she felt the need to leave her mark on him even though "friends" is all they'll ever be. He knew the depth of his own feelings, though hers were confusing to him at times. He might be selfish enough to ask her to let him in a little bit…

But it's more likely that he'll return the favor. It's just returning her selfishness.

He looks forward, knowing he may seek her out again tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally finished this! Yaaaayy. Apologies for the delay, but I hope it was worth the wait. Definitely the longest sex scene I've ever written, but I was fueled by the sheer synergy of this pairing.
> 
> Also, sorry if the open ending disappoints! I grappled on how to conclude this fic for a long time since this was just supposed to be a smutty two-shot and I really don't write multi-chap, but this feels the most right to me. I liked including the scene with Jae-Ha even though it gave me some trouble LOL. I love the guy, but he's kinda tricky to write, so I hope I didn't do too poorly on that front?
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading "Yoon is horny and confused for 18,000 words." Please bug me via [Twitter](https://twitter.com/katzenjammin)  
> DM if you ever want to talk about Yoon/Yona because man I adore these two.


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